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Updated: May 16, 2025
Go away!" "Why?" "Because." "Don't be obstinate." He took her gently by the shoulders. "Can't you understand?" "Go away, Iakov," she cried, severely. "Go away!" "Oh, if that's the tone you take I don't care a rap. You're not the only woman here. You imagine that you are better than the others." She made no reply, rose and brushed the dust off her skirt. "Come," she said.
He said, between his clenched teeth: "Don't touch me. We're not in the village now." "Be silent. I'm your father everywhere." They stood facing each other, Vassili, his eyes bloodshot, his neck outstretched, his fists clenched, panted his brandy-smelling breath in his son's face. Iakov stepped back.
And she laughed the louder. Her laugh displeased Iakov. He paid no attention to her and thought of his mother's instructions. When she accompanied him to the end of the village she had said quickly, blinking her eyes: "In Christ's name, Iakov say to him: 'Father, mother is alone yonder. Five years have gone by and she is always alone.
She was seated on the bow of a large fishing boat anchored in the surf and letting her bare feet hang, sat combing her damp hair. Iakov stopped to watch her. "Have you had a bath?" he cried. She turned to look at him, and glanced down at her feet: then, continuing to comb herself, she replied: "Yes, I took a bath. Why are you up so early?" "Aren't you up early?" "I am not an example for you.
"Why, I just came. We wrote you." "When? I haven't received any letter." "Really? We wrote often." "The letter must have got lost," said Vassili regretfully. "It always does when it's important." "So you don't know how things are at home?" asked Iakov, suspiciously. "How should I know? I received no letter."
Iakov dug his foot deep in the sand and remained glued to the spot, his body stretched forward, his face red, his heart beating wildly. In the distance, on the dead waves of sand, was a small dark human figure moving slowly away; on his right beamed the sun and the powerful sea, and on the left, to the horizon, there was sand, nothing but sand, uniform, deserted, gloomy.
"How's Serejka?" at last Vassili blurted out. "Drunk as usual," replied Iakov, pouring our some more brandy for his father. "He'll end badly and if you don't take care you'll do the same." "I shall never become like him," replied Iakov, surlily. "No?" said Vassili, frowning. "I know what I'm talking about. How long are you here already? Two months. You must soon think of going back.
You want to be put in the traces again." Iakov poured out some more brandy and drank it. These coarse reproaches offended him, but he mastered himself, not wanting to arouse his father's anger. Seeing that his son had drunk again, alone, without filling his glass, made Vassili more angry than ever. "Your father says to you, 'Go home, and you laugh at him. Very well, I'll speak differently.
Has he left his post so as to be nearer Malva and to watch her? Should he go up to them or not." "So, you've decided!" said Serejka to Vassili. "It's goodbye to us all? Well, go your way and scratch the soil." A thrill went through Iakov and he made a joyous grimace. "Yes, I'm going;" said Vassili. Then Iakov advanced boldly. "Good-day, all!"
"Not bad," said Iakov, vaguely, blinking his eyes. "What could I do?" asked Vassili. "I tried at first. But it was impossible. She mends my clothes and so on. Besides it's as easy to escape from death as from a woman when once she's after you." "What's it to me?" said Iakov. "It's your affair. I'm not your judge." Malva now returned with the spoons, and they sat down to dinner.
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